


pies, tears and laughter

by crazywineaunt



Category: Captive Prince - C. S. Pacat
Genre: Bad Cooking, Baking, Comfort, Cooking, Drabble, Established Relationship, Fluff, Fluff without Plot, Food, Light Angst, M/M, sad auguste feels
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-05
Updated: 2020-12-05
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:53:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 280
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27903271
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/crazywineaunt/pseuds/crazywineaunt
Summary: urges to write modern Lamen AU fluff without context strike me so.  And i want to throw it at the world so.Here is part 1 of Laurent Tries to Bake Special Things TM drabbleI’ll probably do part 2 in never
Relationships: Damen/Laurent (Captive Prince)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 20





	pies, tears and laughter

**Author's Note:**

> i posted this on tumblr ages ago so i'll post it here too >:)

A string of colourful curses in a strange mix of broken Akelion and fluid Veretian float through the crack of the slightly ajar kitchen door.

Damen’s mouth curves into a small smile, but he doesn’t rise from his perch on the couch, keeping his eyes trained on his book. He had tried – unsuccessfully – to help Laurent in his baking endeavour half an hour ago, only to have his advances rebuffed. Laurent had placed his flour covered hands squarely on Damen’s chest and shoved him out of the kitchen. Well, he had tried to shove him. Damen had kept his feet firmly planted on the hardwood floor and Laurent had been hard pressed to move him an inch when it came down to brute strength.

_**30 minutes ago** _

_“Damianos,” Laurent says, exasperated, “I want to do this myself, it was Gus’ favourite –”. He looks down, removing his hands from Damen, leaving small floury handprints on Damen’s tank top._

_Damen’s unrepentant grin dims at the mention of Laurent’s dead brother. Cupping Laurent’s face in one hand, he tips it upward until Laurent is looking at him. Damen blinks. He could lose himself in those sapphire depths for hours._

_“Alright, sweetheart,” is all Damen says. And then, because he can’t help himself, he leans in and pecks Laurent on the nose._

_“You had a bit of flour on your nose, there,” Damen says._

_Laurent huffs out a laugh. “Noted.”_

_When Damen stands there, grinning goofily at Laurent’s laugh, Laurent grabs his rolling pin and waves it at Damen threateningly. Damen laughs, throwing his hands up in surrender and backs away slowly._

_“Okay, okay, I’m going. Don’t bash my head in with that thing.”_


End file.
